Imperfect
by Hansil
Summary: NOTICE: DISCONTINUED. Dante's attraction to Lady has become something of a problem. On top of her insistence that she's not the least bit attracted to him, Dante is faced with the challenge of stealing her away from another man. Meanwhile, Lady battles with her own feelings.
1. Chapter 1

The room was dark, like a pitch black void that seemed to suck all the happiness out of the area. The smell of sex hung heavily in the air like a canopy, permeating the atmosphere. Underneath the canopy was a tall, white-haired man pulling on his pants. Across from him, a pale girl with cherry red lips and wavy, chocolate brown hair was reclining in a large bed with white sheets, taking long drags of a Marlboro.

"Dante, come have a cigarette with me," drawled Vanessa in her sultry alto.

Dante snorted in contempt. "You know I don't smoke."

"Something I've never quite understood," laughed Vanessa lightly. "You're practically immortal, but you still worry about things like lung cancer."

"I'm not immortal. You've known me for years. You've seen me age just like everybody else."

"Everyone else doesn't take a sword to the jugular and live to tell the tale."

Dante ignored the lazily smiling brunette and threw on his boots. "Besides, it's not like I have money to throw away on cigarettes."

"…But you have money to throw away on alcohol."

"My life is hard. I need a drink every once in a while."

Vanessa rolled her eyes. "Yes, 'every once in a while.' Whatever. Just come back to bed."

"No. What's the point?"

Vanessa laughed knowingly at Dante's blunt refusal. She had known him long enough not to be intimidated by him anymore. "It's because I'm a prostitute?"

"It's because you annoy me."

"I'm your friend."

"Hardly."

"The only one you ever had," Vanessa continued, undaunted.

"Your opinion."

"You didn't seem to think I was so annoying when you had your dick inside me."

"I never said your vagina was annoying."

Vanessa sighed, reluctantly pulling herself out of bed and slipping on her little black dress. "You know what, Dante? You're a dick." She strolled over to the now dressed man and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. "But I want you to know that I still love you." A mock frown then crossed her lips. "That said, it pains me that I have to charge you extra tonight."

This time it was Dante's turn to laugh. "What, you charge an asshole tax or something?"

"Prostitutes are for sex, not verbal abuse. Now pay up."

Dante's grin quickly dissolved into a scowl. He grudgingly removed his wallet from his pants pocket, grumbling as he did so. "How much do I owe you?"

"For you? Fifty bucks."

Dante raised an eyebrow as he took out two twenties and a ten. "How much do you normally charge assholes?"

"Fifty bucks."

Dante sighed. "You know, this would be easier on my wallet if you would just agree to be fuck buddies."

"And lose my best customer? Not a chance." Vanessa smirked playfully with her tongue between her teeth and snatched the bills out of Dante's fingers. "Prostitutes need to eat too." Dante opened his mouth to speak, but Vanessa was quick to interrupt. "_Do not_ make a joke," she said hastily. "I don't need to hear any more puns about 'meat' today."

"Yeah, well… I think it's about time you left."

Vanessa looked hard at Dante's apathetic features for a few moments before putting her cigarette back between her lips. A suspicious feeling tugged at her, but she said nothing. 'He must just be tired,' she thought.

"Seeya later, D," she said as she passed Dante, smacking him lightly on the butt on her way out. She made her way down the flight of stairs, and then she was gone.

Dante fell back onto the bed, hearing the door shut behind Vanessa. He stared ahead into space, allowing the post-coital haze to wash over him.

…The after-sex happy was missing. This time, he felt just as empty as before Vanessa had arrived.

"Fuck…" he swore miserably.

Suddenly, a knocking sound reverberated throughout the office. Someone was at the door.

Someone he was not in the mood to see.

Dante exhaled, his form sinking into the sofa. Half-heartedly, he pushed his heavy limbs from the fabric and trudged towards the door, readying himself for another bout of awkwardness he knew he would surely feel.

"…This is becoming a problem."


	2. Chapter 2

_So, I was reading the reviews for the first chapter and it seems some of you think this should already be in the mature section. I didn't think it should be there at first, since there was no actual sex or violence, but I do see your guys' point, what with the sex jokes and the implications. So the rating's changed now._

_I'm going to be so cruel to you when I'm writing this. I'll never give you what you want and I'll make you bask in their misery before giving you even an ounce of kindness. And only because I control the outcome, so I can do anything I want to these poor characters in between. If you don't like tragic love stories, you're going to end up hating me. So make note of that before begging for the happy ending. It will come eventually, but only after everyone has suffered enough._

_And hey, did you guys hear that they might be making a DMC movie? I'm really excited to hear more news about this (especially who would be directing, who would be playing Dante, and how faithful it would be to the original storyline), but I'm also really nervous. Since, you know, most video game movies tend to suck major balls. Just look at RE. I'd hate to see my favorite video game fucked up on the big screen. Devil May Cry is known as the sparkling, god-sent jewel of the action genre to video game lovers, but if the movie is stupid, the best game ever may become a joke because the movie was shit, and I would hate to see that happen. If the movie does turn out to suck, I'll just try my best to pretend it never happened. So good luck, Sony. God knows you're going to need it._

"You smell like sweat."

Dante steeled himself and leaned against the doorframe, towering over Lady and blocking her entrance into the office.

"That's the smell of a man, babe. Is it a problem for you?"

Lady wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Depends on what it's from. Who was that girl I just saw coming out of here?"

Dante looked off to the side, avoiding Lady's gaze, and then turned to enter the office lobby, the brunette close at his heels. "…A friend."

Lady clicked her tongue and stared at Dante reproachfully. "A friend," she echoed. "What kind of friend?"

"We're not fuck buddies, if that's what you're asking," Dante groused as he sat down in his chair behind the desk. "What do you care, anyway?"

Lady leaned against the desk with her hip, her arms crossed and her eyes trained on Dante's reclining form. "I don't care. I was just asking."

"If you didn't care you wouldn't have asked. So what is it? You jealous? It's okay if you're jealous."

Lady narrowed her eyes, as if she were offended by the accusation. "What reason do I have to be jealous if she's just a friend?"

Dante only inclined his head towards her and smirked suggestively.

"…Oh, you didn't. Even you're not that disgusting. She can't have been… Dante, was that girl a prostitute?"

Dante rolled his eyes in frustration. "I told you, she's just a friend, and I'm not disgusting. And contrary to your belief, paying for sex isn't the most deplorable thing in the world. Some people just prefer spending a few bucks to months of pointless meandering that might not even lead to sex anyway."

"And you're speaking from experience, are you?"

"As a matter of fact, I am. Why, just look at you. I've known you for almost a year and so far I haven't so much as seen you naked."

Lady recoiled in indignation and started for the door, waving a dismissive hand at Dante as she went. "Oh, god—I'm leaving. You're unbelievable."

Dante sighed theatrically and threw up his hands, unimpressed by Lady's outrage. "Oh for fuck's sake, Lady, don't be such a drama queen, I'm just messing with you. I'm pretty sure trying to get with you is illegal anyway. So take a seat and tell me what you came over for in the first place. Wait—it's not a job, is it? Because I really don't feel like working today."

Lady paused in her escape and tossed her head to the side, bottom lip in her mouth, her eyes still directed at the door. Finally, after a few moments of indecision, she turned back towards the white-haired man behind the desk.

"…It's not a job."

"Well, okay then. Mind telling me what it _is_?" Dante raised an eyebrow and beckoned for Lady to come back to the desk.

Lady kept where she was in the middle of the office. "Well, I mean, it's sort of a job." She turned to look him in the eyes and give a Cheshire Cat grin. "How do you feel about a little subtle self-promotion?"

Dante propped a foot up against his desk and pushed the chair back and forth, rocking it on its hind legs. He gazed at Lady thoughtfully. "That depends. Who will I be promoting myself to, and why?"

"Not you, _me_. I'm about to make us both relatively wealthy."

Dante smiled mischievously, put his foot down and leaned forward on his elbows. "I'm listening."

Lady took a few steps forward and took a seat on top of the pool table, legs crossed with her hands in her lap. "What do you know about Alexander Laepple?"

"Not a damn thing. Should I have heard of him?"

An incredulous look took over Lady's features, her eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. "You can't be serious. Every other mercenary in this country buys their weapons from him. His company makes everything from tasers to missiles to flame-throwers. I even had them modify Kalina Ann when I bought it."

"Well excuse me for not spending god-knows how much money on a suspiciously phallic rocket launcher. Why should I go buy weapons when I've already got enough to stock an armory? Granted, some of them like to talk shit to me sometimes, but they're still pretty kick-ass."

"Didn't you get your Colts from him? I thought that someone with as many weapons as you would have at least _heard _the name Laepple at some point." Lady glanced at the two handguns at their place on Dante's desk, before directing her gaze back at him in belated anger. "…Also, fuck you."

"Right back atcha, babe. And no, I got Ebony and Ivory from Nell Goldstein, the old lady who runs .45 Art Warks."

Lady rolled her eyes. "Figures you'd do even your weapons the weird way. Well anyway, Alexander Laepple recently started work on a new line of artificially intelligent land mines. The arid regions out here are the perfect place to do field testing, so guess where he's going to be staying for the next few months?"

"I don't know," Dante drawled with a bored look on his face. "The desert?"

Lady grinned nefariously. "Within walking distance of this office."

"Great. I'm a little creeped out that you seem to be keeping stalker tabs on this guy, but I don't see how that's going to help me pay rent."

"Well hang on, I'm getting to it. So Alexander Laepple is filthy rich. Like, the 'buy a private jet and stock it full of Bordeaux' kind of filthy rich. He's built an empire of nothing but weapons, but get this: he has no idea how to use any of them. Rumor has it he's a terrible shot. So, hypothetically, if, oh, I don't know… a _demon_ was to suddenly appear in his house one day and cause trouble, he would have no idea what to do, and have no choice but to call…"

"…The friggin' Ghost Busters. So wait, let me see if I'm hearing this right. What you're thinking is that you want me to transform into a demon and terrorize this guy in his own house, so we can dupe him out of his own money?"

"Yes, that's pretty much what I was thinking."

"And here I was thinking you were just going to whore yourself out to him. Taking advantage of the man who sold you your own rocket launcher? That's cold."

An embarrassed frown drew Lady's brows together as she glanced towards the ground. "Normally, I would never dream of doing something like this. It's dishonest and it makes me feel scummy. But I figure a multi-billionaire losing a few thousand dollars is better than me losing my apartment and being raped and murdered at the hands of some drunk, smelly homeless guy."

The half-demon put his hands up to placate her. "Hey, you don't have to justify anything to me." He stood from his desk and sauntered casually over to where she was still sitting, cross-legged on the pool table. "But if you're so concerned about rent, why don't you just stay here?"

Dante leaned over the brunette, trapping her, his hands placed on the table on either side of her. She leaned back on her elbows to keep her distance from him. His gaze bore deep into her, making her feel suddenly uneasy.

"Not likely," she breathed. Her voice had come down to a cautious whisper. "Whenever I'm around you I get nervous."

"In a good way, right?" Lady could only stare blankly at him. "…What, you think you're gonna get raped and murdered at the hands of me?"

"I can't say I wouldn't completely put it past you."

Lady felt a wave of relief rush over her as Dante stood up straight, releasing her from the cage of his arms and looking at her in shock. "What? Why?"

"Because you say stupid stuff all the time and leer like a little pervert!" She near shouted as she sat up straight again.

Well, if that wasn't something to be angry about, he didn't know what was. "I make sexual jokes so I _must_ want to violate you? What kind of shitty logic is that? Trust me Lady, if I really, really wanted to fuck you, you'd be putty in my hands by now. If I was really trying for it, you'd know. Trust me. You'd have to kick my face in just to keep me from being the most annoying little shit you've ever met."

Another roll of her heterochromatic eyes. "Your idea of impulse control is so reassuring."

"You know what? You try living with some little jail-bait schoolgirl cavorting around your office every other day, _then_ you come back and talk to me about impulse control."

"You're intolerable. And I'm sixteen, asshole. Not jailbait."

"Oh."

"What do you mean, oh? Stop grinning, you freak."

"'Oh,' as in 'Thank god, I'm not a pedophile.'"

The expression on Lady's face as she jumped from the pool table could only be described as 'utter outrage.' Her nostrils were flaring and she looked ready to kill at any moment. "It doesn't matter because you won't be coming anywhere near me anyway!"

"You're not doing yourself any favors by egging on this conversation. You can sit there and pretend you're not attracted to me, but deep down inside you know you want it."

"I'm not interested, Dante," she maintained, crossing her arms over her chest. "You honestly disgust me."

"You said that already."

"I'm just trying to get it through that pea brain of yours."

"Fine, okay. I get it," he submitted.

"Finally."

They sat uncompanionably for an uncomfortable amount of time, the air around them awkward. Dante wanted desperately to say something and break the silence, but he could think of nothing. Lady seemed to be in as much of a dilemma as him, if not more so. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but kept thinking better of it, as if she were afraid of sounding stupid. Dante could admit he was a bit amused by her constantly opening and closing her mouth, until she finally decided to spit it out.

"Um… you're not like fifty years old, are you?"

Dante's eyes went wide with surprise at Lady's inquiry. "What? No! Why would you think that?"

Lady looked off to the side and twisted her hands around in embarrassment, her cheeks going slightly red. "Because demons have much longer lifespans. And in case you hadn't noticed, your hair is white."

"That doesn't mean I age slower. I'm not completely a demon so for me it just means I can't be killed as easily. And my hair is white because my father had a genetic mutation… or something. I don't actually know why it's that color. It seems kind of illogical what with the whole recessive gene thing."

"Then how old are you?"

"Twenty," he said laughingly. "Seriously, how many fifty year olds do you know that look like me?"

"There are a couple down in Bull's Eye every time I go down there."

"The bar? You're not old enough to drink."

"Neither are you."

"Pfft. I've got less than a month until I'm legal. You've got five years, so don't even try that shit on me."

"Whatever. All I know is that every time I come over here you're downing a bottle of Everclear like it was orange juice. You've been drinking since _at least_ your mid-teens."

"…My life is hard."

"Yes, I'm sure being completely un-killable is very depressing. Now can we please get back to talking about Alexander Laepple?"

A tapping sound filled the room as Dante leaned back on his desk and drummed his fingers against the wood. "What's left to talk about?"

"Date and time, for starters."

"Tell you what, how about you just show up here whenever and I'll just come along and do my bit?"

"No, we're not doing that." Her head shook as she dismissed the idea. "We need a plan."

"We've got a plan. Show up at his place, pretend to beat each other up for a while, collect commission money. Short and sweet." He shrugged simply as if that were the end of it.

"Yes," she pressed on, "but how much will I charge him, how can we avoid too much property damage, and what will we do if he asks to see a body?"

"Demons don't leave corpses, remember? We turn to dust. I'll just hide after we're done with the theatrics. We'll charge twenty-thou and split it fifty-fifty, and as for property damage, just try not to break anything." It all seemed like a simple deal to him.

Lady sighed dramatically, deciding to indulge Dante's laziness. "Fine," she conceded, "but you had better be here when I show up. Twenty thousand dollars doesn't wait for just anything, you know."

"Yeah, yeah. Now, if that's all you wanted, I think it's about time you left."

"Fine by me. Just don't skip out on me, Dante."

"I'm not going to skip out on ten thousand dollars. Goodbye."

Lady waved idly as she walked out the door, leaving Dante as he had been.

"Well, that sucked," Dante sighed as he sat down in his chair and set a magazine over his face. "_Oh hey, Dante. Let's talk about how you'll never have a chance with me, ever_," he said, imitating a girl's voice by forcing himself into a falsetto soprano. "_I'll walk around your office in a school girl fetish uniform but don't you even dare look at me or I'll cut your balls off_. Fuckin' hell."

And then, another knock at the door.

And another sigh from the emotionally exhausted devil-hunter. "Aren't you done trying to kill my self-esteem? Shouldn't you be playing soccer at the local high school or something?"

Again, a knock.

Dante simply scowled and closed his eyes. Everyone could just fuck off.

Then, the door swung open with a whoosh and a loud 'thunk.' Dante raised his head and let the magazine fall off his face. Stumbling into his office was an overweight Italian with an excited look on his wide features and an annoyingly cheerful aura. Dante's nostrils flared in anger.

"Oh goddamnit Enzo, go the fuck away!"

The smiley Italian strolled, chirpy as ever, up to the hybrid's desk. "No way, Dante! I've got a job for you."

Dante glared at Enzo contemptuously. As if he was actually going to take a job right now… "I've already got a job, so kindly get the hell out of my office."

"What? When? Now?"

"Yes, right now, which is clearly why I'm sitting here wearing only pants," he said condescendingly, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "Go away, you fat bastard, I'm about to be wealthy."

Upon hearing the word 'wealthy,' Enzo lit up, his voice becoming even more cheerful. "Really? That's great! Mind sharing some of that wealth with me? I could really use a trip to Love Planet."

"Money is for earners only, you lazy little dick."

Enzo's face fell in unsurprised disappointment, visibly downtrodden by his perpetual state of broke-ness. "You're a real asshole, you know that?"

Dante placed the magazine back over his eyes, wishing with all his might Enzo would just leave him in peace to sulk. "Yeah, I know."


	3. Chapter 3

_I said before on my profile that I am primarily a painter, and that's still true. The amount of time I spend painting makes it hard for me to find free time to write, so I apologize for that, but seeing as I've set the rather lofty goal of the presidential scholarship to Ringling, I'm sure you'll agree that it is a much better use of my time. I do have something to make up for it, though. For those interested, I've whipped up a quick painting of Alexander:_

_animusinvictum . com / resources / Alexander + Laepple + preview _ edited - 1 . jpg (remove the spaces)_

_He's around twenty-seven here. He's also not the best looking guy in the world, but after playing around with him for a while, I feel this look suits his personality best, and he does come across as rather eccentric (which he is). And for those of you who would like a little background info…_

_Alexander Laepple actually wasn't created for the purpose of being in this story, but I needed someone with his personality and he fit perfectly. He may seem nice now, but he's a total asshole, and a brilliant actor. If you met him in real life, you wouldn't like him. Trust me. He was conceived of because I was curious if people could ever identify with a character who was genuinely a terrible person, so I guess this is his test run. He's intelligent, but that's really about his only redeeming quality. The reason I made him unattractive is because having him be good looking would be giving people a reason to be sympathetic towards him, which is counterproductive. He's selfish, vindictive, shallow, a liar when it benefits him, and brutally honest when it doesn't. He's also incredibly nit-picky and lacks any sense of empathy. Textbook sociopath, I guess. Aside from his rather obvious mental problems, one thing he does his best to hide is his cystic fibrosis, which, as many of you know, leads to infertility in over ninety-five percent of men. The knowledge that he will never have children and is unlikely to live past forty only fuels his hatred of the world and his careless treatment of others. In this story it will also lead him to develop an intense jealousy of Dante, who is both extremely virile and likely to live for a very long time._

_Though I was hesitant to link this embarrassing story to my other pseudonym, I suppose I've already given it with the link to that drawing of Alexander. is my site, and on that site I am a painter and nothing else. It's the only place where I take commissions, and having it linked to such a ridiculous story could be bad for my reputation if it spreads. So please, take this as a symbol of my (maybe misplaced) trust and don't make the connection any more obvious. I've got some Devil May Cry fan art in my gallery and literally fifteen paintings in progress at the same time right now, including one of Vergil. The gallery is just finished paintings, but the memo section is really the meat of the website. I update it about twice a week with WIPs and the like. My email is on the homepage. Feel free to contact me anytime._

_If I ever write another Devil May Cry fic, it will have Vergil. It feels like such a waste to know that that smart, smug, beautiful bastard is an available character and that I'm not including him at all._

_Sorry for the ungodly long AN._

"Wake up, Dante!" Was the first thing he heard that morning. "Today is the day we strike gold. Alexander Laepple is staying home today and the only other mercenaries in this town are so hung over they can barely see straight. It's perfect!"

Dante sat up on his elbows, yawning. He focused his eyes on the bouncy brunette standing at the foot of his bed. "Lady?" He asked groggily. "How the hell did you get in here?"

"Well, I tried knocking but apparently you sleep like a rock. I had to pick the lock on the front door, and your bedroom door was wide open. Now get up."

"Uh… I don't think you'd like that."

"Why not? Come on, an opportunity like this won't come again."

"I'll get up, but you'll either have to leave or turn around unless you want an eyeful of that thing that happens to men in the morning."

"What are you… oh." For a brief moment, Lady eyed the sheets over Dante's lap, her cheeks going rose red. "I'll just… wait downstairs then."

"Yeah, that'd probably be best."

Once Lady had exited the room and closed the door, Dante half-heartedly threw the sheets off himself, laying spread eagle on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He then gave a long sigh and ran a hand through his ivory hair, lamenting Lady's early arrival. Usually, when this happened, he'd be at leisure to lie in bed and pursue his own pleasure, if only for the sake of not roaming the apartment with a hard-on for the entire morning. With Lady waiting downstairs for him, even he wasn't so deluded to believe he could do the same now and get away with it. No, this time he would have to take the route of the cold shower, which he had never done before and never imagined he would have to. Reluctantly, he swept his legs over the side of the bed, stood, and walked into the bathroom across the hall. After checking to make sure there were clean towels in the vicinity, he twisted the dial in the shower to start the water running, sticking his hands through the stream to gauge the temperature. Wincing, he stepped into the freezing downpour, thinking all the while about how much he'd like to wring Lady's slender little neck for putting him in this situation. His fingers curled against the wall as he groaned from behind pursed lips, his chest heaving as he breathed through his nose, eyes screwed shut and eyebrows drawn together. He was barely keeping himself from uttering loud obscenities, but on the plus side, his 'problem' had gone almost completely away, signifying it was time to get the hell out of the shower. Wrenching the dial towards 'off,' Dante let out a relieved gasp and let his head fall back against the wall, reaching blindly for a towel from the rack. He stepped out of the shower to stand in front of the mirror and wrapped the towel around his waist, sweeping his wet hair back with one large hand and staring at his reflection in the glass. For a moment, he couldn't help but think of Vergil and his new home in Hell. As much as he hated to admit it, he missed his ice-cold jackass of a twin. And as painful as it was to think of that moment, Dante couldn't help but look back and think that if he'd been just a bit quicker…

Shaking his head to rid it of his thoughts, he firmly reminded himself for what seemed like the hundredth time that it was pointless to think like that. He brushed his teeth, finger-combed his hair, and stepped out of the bathroom into the hallway. As he looked over the railing on the landing, he found Lady sitting on the couch, staring straight ahead, still looking completely mortified and embarrassed. She just about jumped a foot in the air in surprise when Dante began talking to her from the second floor, pointing an accusing finger at her.

"Next time you decide to break into my apartment and wake me up this early, I'm throwing you in the freezing shower first and locking you in there. It'll be like Pulse… only much more satisfying."

Lady only nodded in response, obviously trying to look anywhere but at him, half-naked and dripping as he was.

"I'll be down after I get dressed. Try not to die of embarrassment while I'm gone."

As he turned to walk back to his bedroom, his sensitive hearing picked up Lady muttering the word "jackass" under her breath. Laughing, he unwrapped his towel and flung it at Lady, who squeaked loudly and jumped off the couch, narrowly avoiding being hit.

"Dante, you asshole!"

"That's what you get for imposing on my alone time. Be glad it's all I did and try not to make that seething rage so obvious. It's not good for you."

Dodging a bullet from Lady's gun, he chuckled lowly to himself and went into his room to put some clothes on. Damn, she was so easy to rattle.

Forgoing the coat and gun holster, since he wasn't going to be needing them today anyway, he slipped on his usual pair of leather pants and boots, and a plain black T-shirt. Also forgoing the stairs, he swung his legs over the balcony and landed gracefully on the first floor, and walked lazily towards Lady with an amused grin on his face.

"Alright, you ready?"

Faster than lightning, Lady drew a pistol from the holster strapped to her leg and –BAM!—fired a single shot into Dante's throat. The blue-eyed man stumbled and fell backward, coughing and trying to breathe as his airway knitted itself back together. He looked up with utter hatred in his eyes just in time to see Lady blow the smoke from the barrel of her gun and shove it back into the holster.

"Yeah," she replied, radiating smug satisfaction. "Now I'm ready."

'_Holy damn,'_ Dante thought, slack-jawed and staring at an enormous six-story building standing behind a ten-foot-tall fence_. 'This place is freaking huge. Maybe I should just run this guy out of town and live here myself.'_

"I dunno, Lady. You sure this is the place? It's awfully quaint." Dante teased the petite brunette standing beside him.

"Hardy har har," she replied caustically. "I'm sure you get this all the time, but you're absolutely hysterical. Stop before my sides split from all this laughter."

Dante couldn't see his partner's face because of how close she was standing, but he could hear in her voice that her trigger finger was already itching. And goddamn, it was barely midmorning. What the hell was she so itchy about? Sure, he had thrown a towel at her and embarrassed her to high heaven, but really, he thought she would've been over it by now.

"You're not going to go all Good Samaritan on me and chicken out right before this goes down, are you?"

"No. Pretty much everything we do is illegal anyway," she replied, swinging a pistol on her finger. "I don't have a permit to carry this rocket-launcher, or any of my other guns, for that matter. And I'm pretty sure it's illegal to stock as many weapons as you do. You're not going to go all insane and attack me when you transform, are you?"

"No, I'm still self-aware in demon form. The only shit I'll be fucking up is this Leper guy's."

"Laepple."

"_Whatever_."

"Alright. So, you just wait here for a few minutes and give me some time to get home so I can wait for the phone call. And remember, don't actually hurt him."

With that, Lady turned to head back to her apartment.

"Oh, hey, wait, I just had a thought," Dante said quickly, causing Lady to turn again and raise a curious eyebrow at him. "There's a pretty good chance this guy's never hired a devil hunter before, right? He probably has no idea what the going rate is for this stuff. We could up the price and he'd never know the difference."

"I suppose. How much are we talking about?"

"How 'bout fifty grand?"

"Twenty-five each? Sure, let's do it," Lady agreed readily with a grin on her face. "I'll be able to pay all my bills for the next year _and_ go out with my friends as much as I want."

"You don't have friends," Dante said, calling what he was sure was a bluff.

"You think so? Geez, I guess I'll have to break it to Sam and Lora that they don't exist next time I see them."

"I guess so. Your imaginary friend Sam; boy or girl?"

A self-satisfied smirk suddenly appeared on Lady's face, as if she'd just caught Dante in some sort of trap. "Why, are you jealous? It's okay if you're jealous, you know."

Dante snorted at the accusation and crossed his arms over his chest. "Don't flatter yourself, kiddy. I'm just curious. It's dangerous for little girls to be out with strange men."

"Huh, I guess that's true. Guess I can't see you anymore then."

"That's different. We pretty much stopped the coming of Satan together, you know me."

"I know Sam. I also know that _her_ name happens to be short for _Samantha_, and that _she_ just so happens to have a pair of breasts. That qualifies her as a girl, doesn't it? You're the expert, you tell me."

"Ha. Ha. You're so funny. Just go home already so I can start wrecking stuff."

Lady's eyes narrowed as she took a threatening step back towards Dante. "I said no property damage, you clown."

"Alright, alright. Fine. No property damage. Now run along." He shooed her away, motioning with a few flicks of his wrist.

Lady rolled her eyes at her snowy-haired counterpart and spun around on her heel, once again heading towards her apartment. She gave a half-hearted wave with two fingers without looking back.

Dante waited until Lady had rounded a corner out of sight before turning back towards the enormous house. He laced his fingers together and pressed them outward until they each emitted a dull cracking sound. Giving a short glance in all directions, he looked to see that no one was watching before transforming in a flash of red.

"No property damage..." he drawled, his voice now an unearthly, raspy baritone. "Right."

'_Wow,' _Lady thought, walking towards her newest client. _'He's… wow.'_

"Ah, Lady, I'm so glad you've come," exclaimed the tall, stylishly dressed man, whose honey-colored hair trailed behind him as he ambled over to his hired gun. "I called two other mercenaries before you but neither of them was willing to take the job. They both told me the exact same thing, too.' Piss off, I don't do insect demons.' Then the last one gave me your number."

"Don't mind them, they're just hung over. There are only four mercenaries in this town including me, and they were all at the bar until late last night." Lady adjusted the strap on her shoulder that held the heavy Kalina Ann on her back. "There's a hierarchy in the demon world that's rather complicated, but it involves the species of the demons, among other factors. The guys here know that insect demons have a rep. for being especially dangerous, and that I'm apparently the only one crazy enough to try with them. How did you know it was insect-type, though?"

"Eh... I don't know a whole lot about demons, so I took a guess. It had wings and it was crawling on the walls—it just looks like some kind of overgrown bug."

"The ugliest of them all."

Mr. Laepple nodded as if in agreement. "I just bought this house last year so I could that I could oversee the experimental phase of the new weapons manufacturing. I would really hate to see it destroyed by a demon my first week here."

"Yes, it really would be such a shame. You know, I'm actually a very big fan of your work, Mr. Laepple. Your company made my Kalina Ann here and she's been with me for two years. Really fine craftsmanship—I've never had one problem with her."

Seemingly flattered, Mr. Laepple smiled widely at Lady. "Well thank you, Lady. You know, I actually remember making that exact model—took me six weeks to get it just right. It was one of my first designs, and to this day it's still one of my favorites. I'm glad you've taken such a liking to it."

Suddenly, a surge of electricity shocked the property visibly.

"Whoops," Lady exclaimed, taking off quickly towards the house. "I've been standing around for too long. I'll see you when it's over."

More than a little miffed at being interrupted, Lady sauntered through the front door with a gun in each hand, making it very clear she was annoyed.

"Getting impatient, are we?" She called into the seemingly empty foyer. The answering voice came from above her.

"I'm sorry. Did I interrupt your flirting session?" Dante was in demon form, claws latched to the ceiling, hanging upside down like a bat.

Dante's unnatural sounding voice sent a chill down her spine, but she kept her cool, rolling her eyes at him. "Kinda."

"Well, you've got plenty of time to bat your eyes at strange men ten years your senior _after_ we're done."

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes _again_, Lady spun the gun in her right hand. "Yes, well, I already know you're jealous. You don't have to be such a big baby about it, though."

"That sure is a great imagination you've got there."

Dante dropped to the floor noiselessly, right in front of Lady. Dante towered over her already in his normal human state, but now Lady was displeased to find he appeared to have grown a couple more inches with this form. Upon closer inspection, she also noticed that he seemed to be weaponless. Her eyes narrowed in annoyance. She knew this was just another way for him to tease her. Was he so sure of himself he thought he could walk away from this without a scratch?

"…Where's your sword? You're not going to use a weapon? You didn't even bring your guns."

Dante shrugged nonchalantly. "Left 'em at home. It's not like I'm actually trying to kill you or anything."

"You have to fight back unless you want to walk out of here looking like Swiss cheese."

"Well, that's the thing… I'm not going to fight back."

Lady quirked an eyebrow, regarding Dante suspiciously. "Why not?"

"I enjoy a good fight as much as the next guy, but I have a policy of not beating up people who don't deserve it. Especially chicks."

Lady rolled her eyes. "You don't have to use deadly force, Dante. Just fight back. I'm a big girl, I can handle myself."

Dante shook his head, insistent, his expression firm and voice leaving no room for argument. "No. As long as we're partners, I won't fight you. I don't want to hurt you, Lady."

Lady was momentarily stunned at Dante's gallantry. Facial features softening, she slowly let the hand holding the gun drop to her side. For a moment, Dante seemed to genuinely care about her. With a quieter, gentler voice, she made her objections known. "We can't just stand around like this. The silence is going to be a dead giveaway that something's up."

"Well then I'll tell you what we're gonna do," Dante began. "You're gonna take this gun…" He reached for the hand at Lady's side and raised it like a lever to his abdomen, hands over hers. "…And you're gonna shoot me with it."

Suddenly hyperaware of Dante's proximity, his fingers pressing lightly on the back of her hand, Lady felt a profound sense of panic. Her gun was pointed squarely just above his navel, but his hand was the guiding one, his thumb over her trigger finger.

"I can't just shoot you like this."

"Sure you can. You do it all the time."

"I… that's different."

"No it's not. Just like every other job, the sound of success is going to be the sound of flesh eating a bullet. My flesh, as it were."

Lady didn't have it in her to tell him that it felt wrong to shoot him so deliberately now. Yes, she had a habit of sending bullets his way, but only when he really deserved it. Right now, when he was being so noble and mature, she wasn't so sure he did.

Surely he must have sensed her hesitation. If he did, though, he gave no indication.

All at once, Lady felt his thumb press down and the deafening boom of the gun rang through her head. She closed her eyes as the recoil shook her, like the physical manifestation of anxiety.

Lady couldn't explain why she felt so anxious. But as he dragged her hand upward, guiding the barrel of the gun towards his chest, her heart sped up and she felt suffocated, as if she were drowning. Why was he doing this? If he was trying to show an altruistic side, this wasn't the way to go about it. In any case, she couldn't understand why she was reacting so strongly. She had never had any qualms about shooting Dante. Somehow this was different.

The second boom impacted like a familiar dream, muffled and diluted. She felt the bullet enter his chest and she felt as though her heart was being squeezed.

His hands moved hers up again to their final destination, and the barrel rested as it had before, right between his eyes.

He was ever so close, his hands around hers giving her the sensation that she was on fire. The way he was leaning toward her, his body just inches from hers, she wondered absently if he could hear her heart pounding against her ribcage. Gazing serenely at her with those cerulean blue eyes, frost white hair dusting his cheekbones, he looked like a lover.

For a single moment, she found herself unable to tear her gaze from him. Then his eyes fluttered closed, and she felt his thumb slowly push her trigger finger back.

"_Ab imo pectore_," he murmured softly, as though he were speaking to himself.

The final boom echoed throughout the house, reverberating in her chest.

The world around her seemed almost surreal. She felt shaken, restless, guilty even. She had been ready for a fight, but she never expected he would do something like that. She almost felt ill.

Dante dropped her hand and took a few steps back, an unusually solemn look on his face. "Go bat your eyelashes at your bastard prince charming," he said gravely, before turning and walking toward the back of the house.

Trancelike, Lady obeyed, heading toward the door. Her heart rate had slowed some, but now she felt the beginnings of a headache approaching. She closed her eyes and dragged a hand over her face, feeling confused and overwhelmed.

Suddenly, her foot met something hard and her eyes flew open as she felt herself stumble. She shot her hands out as she fell, catching herself before she hit the ground and rolling onto her back. Behind her, she heard something smash as it met with the floor. Sitting up on her elbows, she saw it was–or used to be–a vase. She stood halfway and then knelt down to inspect the damage.

"Shit," she mumbled. After all she had said to Dante about property damage… How could she have been so careless? The vase looked expensive—it must have been beautiful before she had sent it smashing into a dozen pieces. It was obvious there was no avoiding the consequences; Mr. Laepple would definitely notice. She would just have to suck it up and admit to the mishap. Sighing, she stood and pushed the door open, then closed it behind her as she exited. She started to walk to where Mr. Laepple was standing, a few dozen feet from the house.

"Job's done, Mr. Laepple," she informed him as she approached. "The demon's dead and I'm happy to report that it caused no damage to the house… except for a large blue vase that broke during the struggle." She avoided his gaze sheepishly. "Naturally, the cost comes out of my payment. I'm almost afraid to ask how much that vase was worth."

Mr. Laepple seemed unconcerned, even amused. "The one in the entrance hall, next to the bookshelf? That actually cost seventeen thousand dollars. I bought it from an art dealer in Berlin."

"Seventeen… thousand…" She echoed in disbelief. There went her plans for a better apartment...

The tall man smiled good-naturedly. "Please, don't worry about it. I'm not such a stickler that I need to take pay away from a hard worker like yourself. I'm sure your job is very dangerous—you deserve full pay. The vase was just for decoration anyway. But if you feel really bad about it, you can repay me by letting me take you out to dinner on Saturday. What do you say?"

Lady was shocked, unable to speak. Alexander Laepple had been someone she'd respected since she was fourteen, but she never dreamed she'd be having this conversation with him. She admired him the way any teenage girl might admire a movie star. For the longest moment she could only stare at him, then finally her voice returned to her. "…That's so cheesy."

Alexander grinned, white teeth showing. "Well, it's worked out pretty well for me so far."

Lady grinned back and nodded once. "Alright, Alexander. I'll take you up on that. This Saturday, then?"

"This Saturday," he confirmed.

"Then I'll see you then. I'll meet you outside the coffee shop on 13th Avenue."

"Eight o'clock?" he asked.

"Eight o'clock."

"_If you feel really bad about it, you can repay me by letting me take you out to dinner?"_ repeated Dante, incredulous. "What the hell kind of stupid pickup line is that?"

Lady rolled her eyes at him, again. '_At least he seems back to his normal self.' _"I thought it was cute."

Dante snorted. "Yeah, sure. And maybe next time he'll stand outside your window with a boom box and let Peter Gabriel serenade you. You're not _actually_ going for this crap, are you?"

'"Why shouldn't I? Unlike you, he's actually a gentleman."

"He's a third-rate pickup artist who thinks dating a sixteen year old is perfectly acceptable."

"My birthday was last week, you tool."

"Awesome. Happy birthday and stuff. Doesn't change a thing."

"So according to you, dating a twenty-one year old is just fine, but tack on a few extra years and suddenly it's disturbing? You can't have it both ways, Dante. Either it's creepy or it's not. Pick one."

"I am twenty-one. He is twenty-seven. Twenty-seven. _Twenty-seven. _Do you understand why that's weird? There's barely a four-year difference between us, but he's _ten freaking years older than you!_ For god's sake, he's almost thirty! He'll be an old man by the time you reach your prime!"

"God, could your raging jealousy be any more obvious? If you didn't like me like that, you wouldn't give a damn about who I went out with. If you want me, ask me on a date like a normal guy, but I'm not playing this stupid game of yours anymore."

"Fine," he ground out through his teeth, their eyes locked in an antagonistic battle of wills. "Lady, will you go out with me?"

"No. I have a date this Saturday."

Dante was dumbstruck. "You just—I—what the hell are you playing at? You tell me to ask you out only to reject me the very next second? Who's playing stupid games now?"

"If nothing else, you could use a little humility. I'm not going to buckle to your will just because you're incapable of wooing a girl in any way that involves actual tact. I could probably count on one hand the number of times you've said something to me that wasn't rude, suggestive or a lie. If you weren't such an ass I might have actually considered going out with you. But unfortunately, you're just as much of a dick as the first day we met, so now I'll be having dinner with the nice man ten years older than me. Karma sucks, doesn't it?"

"You… unbelievable bitch," Dante bit out furiously, color rising to his cheeks in sheer humiliation.

"Have fun by yourself, Dante. I may be younger than you, but you're still more of a child than I am." With that, she turned and walked out of the office, waving two fingers behind her just as she had earlier that day. Dante was speechless. He had known that Lady couldn't be won over easily, but to be so thoroughly rejected… It was a blow to his ego.

He sighed and laid his head down on the desk. Without looking up, he took hold of the phone and dialed an all too familiar number.

"Hey Vanessa," he greeted the voice on the other end somberly. "Want to come over?"

_Well, that's the end of chapter three. Sorry it took so long. I promise, there is a reason Lady freaked out the way she did when Dante shot himself, and the phrase he uttered when he did so will also be explained in a later chapter. This early in the story, I wouldn't include something like that if it didn't have any bearing on the future. Review if you feel so inclined._

_Ciao._


	4. NOTICE

Hi guys. I know it's been a while since I last updated, and I'm sorry about that. I've been under a lot of stress lately and to be honest, fanfic hasn't really been a priority for me lately.

I have some news I don't think you're going to like… I'm sorry, but I won't be continuing with this story. I've changed a lot as a person since I started it, and frankly, I'm a bit horrified at some of the things I've written and had planned to write. Not the general style (I'm still in love with morbid, sarcastic writing), but the way I was treating Lady. After going back and looking at my outline for the first time in months, I realized that the plot of this story was dependent on me treating her character like shit, and I'm not at all comfortable writing what I had planned. I hope you'll understand.

I have my own book to finish and my ability to be an independent adult hinges on whether or not I succeed with that, so I dedicate nearly all of my free time to that these days. I'll come back to Devil May Cry fanfiction in a year or two when I'm out of college and settled. Until then, if you like my writing, keep an eye out for my novel "The Glacial Keep."

I'm really grateful for everyone's support, and I'm sincerely sorry if I've disappointed you. Things have changed a lot, hopefully for the better.

Wishing you all the best,

Hansil


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